


Take Me Back, Home

by newyorktopaloalto



Series: Grantaire Sings (And Enjolras is Enamored) [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, The second part, sorry for spamming the tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of Enjolras hearing Grantaire sing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Back, Home

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, like, a day after my first one, so I still count it as one of my first Les Mis fics. Therefore, dear readers, not too terribly amazing— but I have a fondness for it.

"Yeee-llo~" Grantaire sing-songed into his phone, his left hand still sketching idly at his final presentation— he might have been a slacker in most of his classes, but he couldn't imagine the devastated look in his art teacher's eyes as she was faced with something not up to his usual standard. 

"Hello?" he asked again, as he noticed that all that was on the other line was heavy breathing. 

After a moment, he sighed and rolled his eyes, muttering a, 'Courfeyrac, you dunce,' as he checked the caller I.D. And huh, that was not... 

He blushed despite himself. 

"Enjolras?" he asked, voice strangely hesitant as he said the other's real name for the first time in what seemed like months. But something was wrong— Enjolras was always one for talking, and now that he was silent; well, it couldn't mean anything good, that was for sure. 

"You sing?" was the only response he got, and Grantaire furrowed his brow at the crack in the other's voice. 

"Not really," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, ignoring the charcoal smudges the pencil left behind on his skin. "I mean, recreationally, but not much other than that." He paused as he considered Enjolras' question more thoroughly. "Why?" 

"Courfeyrac sent me a video." 

"Huh." 

And Grantaire didn't really know what to say to that. Except— 

"Why are you calling me about it?" 

He heard Enjolras take a sharp breath, and he could almost see the nervous way the other would be biting at his lip. Fuck, it was really bad that Grantaire could actually envision what the flaxen-haird man was doing. 

"Grantaire— R, you're amazing." 

Oh. 

_Oh._

"Stop it, Apollo, you're going to make me blush," he joked, running his hand through his hair (he really needed to take a shower,) face bright red, belaying the fact that he was already, indeed, blushing. 

"Grantaire, be serious," Enjolras admonished, and Grantaire had to laugh. Because of course even though Enjolras was giving him a compliment, he couldn't help but bicker. 

"I am wild," was all he replied with, a smirk overtaking his face as he started on a new sketch, knowing he was going to have to get more gold and red paint for when he was ready. 

But on the other hand, he knew how he was going to finish his showcase. He should have realized before this is how it would go— it always went like this. 

"Anyways, if that was all, Apollo," he continued, half hoping that Enjolras would continue chatting in his ear, and knowing that he wouldn't. 

"No, that was all," Enjolras murmured, and Grantaire could swear there was a bit of disappointment in the other man's tone. But that couldn't be right, could it? 

"I'll see you at the meeting, R." 

Grantaire listened to the dial tone of his phone longer than was probably healthy.


End file.
